


Every Girl's Got Her Own Ghost Story

by havocthecat



Series: My Girlfriend's a Ghost [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death Fix, Community: femslash_today, F/F, Femslash, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Post-Born Under a Bad Sign, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-14
Updated: 2007-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havocthecat/pseuds/havocthecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo and Jess have their own story.  It doesn't revolve around the Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Girl's Got Her Own Ghost Story

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [for the femslash_today vday porn battle](http://femslash-today.livejournal.com/74522.html?thread=1024026#t1024026) and later [mirrored to LJ](http://havocs-cry.livejournal.com/5814.html).

Jo packs up the first aid kit, grabs her bag, and drives. Doesn't matter where. After eight hours on the road, in the dim gray of the dawn, her vision is starting to blur. She pulls over, finds a motel that won't ask for ID, or use up too much of her hard-earned tip money. She tells herself it's just exhaustion. Just the letdown from the adrenaline. She scrubs away moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes, and tells herself she didn't want to be a part of something anyway. She didn't need her life to mean more than just tending a roadhouse and hanging on the edges of conversations that hushed when she got too close, or her mom's gaze got a little too sharp. Didn't need to grow up and learn who Jo Harvelle was outside of someone else's shadow.

She tosses her bag down, collapses onto the bed, still dressed in the clothes from she'd dragged Dean back to the bar, and then starts back up again, eyes wide.

"They're a handful," says the woman, looking perfect and clean, blonde waves falling on creamy shoulders, tumbling down against the white lace and satin dress. No, nightgown.

"How'd you get in here?" Too tired to put salt at the entrances, lay out a knife, or do anything Mom had taught her. "What are you?"

"They tie your heart up in knots," says the woman softly. "They mean well, but--"

"Yeah, well, it's never enough, is it?" asks Jo, her mouth set. "So, what, you're a ghost? Gonna tell me you resent the living? Try to kill me or something?"

She shakes her head, moves to push herself up, and quick as a blur, is sitting next to Jo on the bed, legs crossed and leaning back on her hands. "My name is Jess."

Jo's heart is hammering in her chest, and she takes several gulping breaths. "Jo." This is Sam's dead girlfriend. Jessica. Tragic love lost, or something, her mom said once. "Why're you here?"

"I can't move on," says Jess. "It's holding me back."

"Don't know why you're here." Jo's wrestling her panic down, turning it into a grumble. "Not like I know where I'm going."

"Any place is better than no place," says Jess. She's leaning forward, impossibly beautiful for a woman who died in flames. When her mouth brushes against Jo's, her arm moves, jerky and quick, to rest her hand on Jo's thigh.

Jo opens her mouth, not sure if she's ready to gasp with fear or desire, and Jessica's hand seems so solid against her that Jo has to put a hand on Jess' arm, slide her palm against smooth skin, almost fiery hot, while Jess drags Jo's shirt up, off, still kissing her. She doesn't know why she's doing this, bunching up the satin, leaning Jess down on the bed and kissing her way down, her mouth closing over Jess' taut nipple, suckling and nipping, and even further down, between Jess' thighs.

She sure as hell never knew a ghost could scream when she came, or that she'd get used to the way Jess moves, sitting up lightning-quick and flipping Jo over, solid flesh sliding against ghostly, and Jo reaches up, her hands tangling in Jess' hair. They're sitting up now, kissing each other like there's nothing in the world past tonight, Jess' fingers inside her, Jo's hips twisting and her eyes closed. When Jo cries out so loudly the neighbors pound on the wall, she shudders and falls forward, and Jess catches her, lowers her to the bed. 

"That was weird," murmurs Jo, her eyes cracked open enough to watch Jess suddenly laying next to her, nightgown back on. The blankets settle over Jo's shoulders as she covers a jaw-cracking yawn.

She wakes up hours later, still naked, and thinks she catches a faint glimpse of white satin out of the corner of her eye. At the next crappy bar she gets a job in, for cash under the table, she sees Jess watching her from the corner. Jo cracks a grin, and when she goes back to her room after close, unlocks the door and lets herself in, Jess is on the bed, waiting for her.

Months later, she runs into Sam and Dean, and when the adventure's done, she's starting her car. Jess is in the passenger seat, and Jo tosses a smirk at her, sees the guys' eyes widen as she peels off, ignoring the sudden, insistent buzzing of her cell.

\--end--


End file.
